Yesterday a man walked by my house, which sent my dog into a barking frenzy. This is a pretty common occurrence, but it's annoying none the less. So I opened the back door and shouted an admonishment to Diego. The dude paused in the street and asked if Diego would bite him. I assured him that he wouldn't, and that he was furiously barking because he wanted to be acknowledged. I really believed that- Diego's tail was whipping back and forth in an apparently friendly manner. And he's quite possibly the most friendly dog you'll ever encounter. But when this guy put his hand up to the chain-link fence to be sniffed, Diego snapped at it. I was shocked! I have never seen him engage in aggressive behavior. He obviously thought there was something off about this guy, and didn't want him entering our territory. Well, it turns our Diego had a pretty good read on this fellow.
I try not to judge people on a first impression. But sometimes, said people make that very difficult. I came out to the fence to apologize, carrying Twyla. I felt a bit strange because I was braless and wearing a tee shirt and my hubby's boxer briefs that had served as my pajamas the night before. It was only 9:00am or so, and I had yet to eat breakfast, let alone shower. So this stranger got to see me in all my bed headed, National Geographic breast swinging glory. Yes, awkward. But things were about to get even more awkward. He insisted on guessing Twyla's age. He stared at her and started saying bizarre things like, "Can you tell me how old you are? Give me a sign." As if she were going to reply, "Can you believe I'm only 3 1/2 months old? Amazing how well I speak, isn't it?" Or maybe he expected her to pull a David Blaine and somehow implant the answer in his mind.
We only spoke for a few minutes, as he needed to catch a bus, and I was anxious to get inside before any of my neighbors saw me in my pj's. As we exchanged names, I proffered my hand confidently over the fence, as I usually do when meeting new people. He didn't shake my hand. He reached out slightly and perfunctorily brushed my fingertips with his. And he said, "That's how I do that."
Huh? I was momentarily confused. I muttered an insincere "Nice meeting you," and retreated to the safety of my house. What the hell was that about? I couldn't stop thinking about why he didn't just firmly clasp my hand, as I expected he would. Was he a germophobe? I mean, I know I was looking pretty haggard that morning, but I obviously wasn't suffering from leprosy or scabies! Was he just too damned cool to shake? He felt the need to "slap me some skin" to demonstrate his awesomeness? Or was it something else? A big "F*** you" to the cultural standard of hand-shaking? That was the feeling I was left with. And it really got me thinking about the cultural norms in the U.S.
Some things are automatically expected of us. Most people expect to shake hands when they meet for the first time. By choosing to forgo that ritual, the dude that nearly got his fingers chomped by my dog caused me to feel as though I were on uneven ground in our interaction. He got the upper hand by making me feel as though I was attempting something that was beneath him. I didn't like how that made me feel. I left that encounter thinking, "What a weirdo." No wonder Diego tried to bite him!
Sometimes I think people shun typical expectations of behavior and/or appearance simply because they think it undesirable to conform. I find this exceedingly annoying. The fact that something is a cultural norm doesn't mean that anyone who follows it is a weak-minded conformist. I have many ways in which I deviate from the status quo. But there are reasons for my deviant behavior in those cases. I don't refuse to do something just to raise eyebrows and prove my individuality.
In the "natural" community, there are cultural norms that tend to be very different from the mainstream. I meet many of them, but not because I'm trying to impress anyone. I get really irritated when discussions about nursing toddlers becomes a competition to see who nursed the longest. That defeats the entire idea of meeting a child's needs through breastfeeding. Having a mutually beneficial nursing relationship with the child based on both party's needs is what is really important- not how many years it continues. There are so many examples that I could give of people flaunting their choices as though they can't wait for someone to question them on it. There are people who relish the fact that they do so many things that are contrary to traditional social standards.
I am not one of those people. I do what I do because I want to- not because I give a shit what other people think. I have strong beliefs which often lead me down a very different path than the masses, but I don't feel the need to shove it in people's faces. But there are other ways in which I do follow the cultural standard. I shave my armpits. And my legs. I know that there's not any real reason for this practice other than aesthetics, but I still do it. I like the way I look with hairless legs and pits, and I know that's because I have become accustomed to seeing it on others. I have come across women who judge me for that. I'm all for women choosing to keep their body hair intact if they want to. Why would I care that they do? I know I have also been judged by women in the natural community for wearing makeup at times. Or for thinking Martha Stewart it totally bitchin'!
The thing is, I don't really care if people think I'm stupid for participating in common cultural practices. Maybe that guy outside my yard doesn't care what I think about his disdain for hand-clasping. Who knows. Maybe I'm the one being unfairly judgemental. I think I'll ask Diego.
"So, Diego, how should one behave when meeting somebody for the first time?"
"Duh. Just sniff his ass."
Ah, yes. Perhaps the dude would have responded more positively to such an approach. I'd just say, "That's how I do that."
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